NPC bio - Ixi
Code: IX-2994-26-10-CONTROL Nickname: They call her Ixi, because of the odd combination of her day letters. Around the age of 15, when she first started to become secure in her position, she started to sign the inside of particular pieces she was assembling with IX3 (the first two letters of her code and the number child she was from her mother) as was the tradition with the higher skilled welders. She also started using that as her signature for her portable metal sculptures she traded. Personality: Inside the factory, she is an able-bodied worker who does what she is told to do. Many of the women she works with find her cold and unresponsive. Due to her evident skill in welding and assembly of especially complicated parts of electronics and robotics, she was removed from her original birth factory and placed in a factory comprised almost entirely of women nearly twice her age. (Which was a shame, as Ixi heard later that the factory burned down and several people escaped.) But, regardless, she was a shell of a person who only found joy in putting things together perfectly. Until, one day, she found a piece of twisted metal. Her cold and slumbering mind stirred as she looked at it, trying to find a word to describe it. ...Beautiful. Yes, that was it. Beautiful. '' From that point, she discovered a new side of herself and started to steal pieces of scrap metal she found on the factory floor, hoarding it away to her solitary room. The first time she took a piece of scrap, she about jumped out of her skin. But ever since, it has become nothing more than a simple habit, something she hardly even thinks about. After a time, she had quite a pile and decided to assemble it into something. Her first metal sculpture resembled a bloated motherboard, but from that point she became more sophisticated in assembling and creating works of art. In the factory, she would use these as trading pieces for warmer blankets, better boots, and other amenities that were barred from her due to her age. Underneath the cameras, she was a blank-faced, obedient servant. But in the shadows she was a shrewd bargainer and an elite artisan, with a cunning mind. Lacking inspiration, Ixi began to trade her small sculptures for sheaves of paper--instruction manuals, news, anything that had words or images that she could use in her other work. An older woman actually traded away a small amount of folded pages, dirty and mired and torn, that talked about the sky and birds... She had no idea what the heck those things were. She'd heard rumors, of course, but the ideas were interesting and she always had those dirty folded squares in her pockets. Likes: interesting pieces of scrap, welding, bartering, creating things, solving robotic intricacies, reading, smell of burning metal, quiet (but doesn't dislike noise) Dislikes: cafeteria food and smell, cockroaches, cameras, jealous co-workers, tattoos, socializing, artist's block '''Appearance:' She's relatively tall, around 5'7", with an olive tone to her pallid skin. She is still rather gangly, although she's starting to become more curves than angles. One can tell that Ixi is starting to grow into her body a bit. Because of her work, she is muscular in a lean sort of way and is often covered in ash and metal shavings, making her skin look darker than it really is. Her hair is a deep black, almost blue, and chopped off in a haphazard sort of way to about a half inch. When her hair grows out, it bushes to about the top of her ear before she goes insane with the length and chops it off again. Picture Age: 16 Gender: Female Job: Robotics Assembly Skills: Welding, Metal Sculpture, Reading, Robotic Repair and Construction Other: When she was born, there was a sudden black out in that sector and she was birthed in complete chaos and darkness as many tried to escape in the confusion. However, the government put down nearly all who resisted and erased the mass murder from the city's history. As she was born close to the epicenter of the black out and ensuing uprising, her moniker was put down as "control" to help cement the new truth. Of course, the irony was that she was far from controlled. Every day since she discovered her desire and talent for artwork, her mind slowly drifted away from conformity and obedience. She was beginning to feel dissatisfied with her work and how she had to keep her art silent. She started to dream of actually seeing what a sky is and how a bird works (because obviously it was some sort of elaborate machinery), but was unable to wrap her head around actually trying to escape. Where would she start? She didn't even know where she was or how to get out of it. Of course, up until now her future didn't seem to concern her. The facade she now put up as a dull and soulless being was what she truly used to be like--her development of a personality, actually, was starting to mark her as eccentric to the rest of her fellow workers. Childbearing years were still too far away for her to really think about them too much, especially as her workload took up every thinking moment of her day. As she grew older, her sculpture creating was starting to slim down as the animosity between her and the other, less skilled, workers increased.